So,I nodded and replied, “Okay,” while wondering how I could leave this man I’dgrown to depend on so much.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mythree-month lease was running out and I knew I wouldn’t be renewing it. Mylandlord was already working on finding a new tenant, and when I stopped intothe pizza place in my building, the man named Moe behind the register grinnedin my direction.
“Girl,I heard you’removin’!”
Inodded and ordered two slices of pepperoni. “Yeah, I’m moving back home to LongIsland as soon as my baby is out of the hospital.”
Herang me up and replied, “I used to live out there.”
“Oh,yeah?”
Henodded and handed me the change. “Yes, ma’am. I was out in Islip for a while.Then, I found myself here.”
“Igrew up in Brightwaters.”
Moewhistled, shaking his head as his dreadlocks swayed. “That’s one beautiful townright there. Can’t say I can blame you forgoin’back.”
“Myparents are there, so …” I shrugged, as a curly-haired woman handed me my pizzaover the glass partition.
“Familyis certainly a good reason to go home,” he replied, nodding sagely. “But,sometimes, love is a good reason to stay.”
Icocked my head with curiosity, and Moe laughed. “I read that one in a self-helpbook years ago. It stuck with me, youknow?Just oneof those things.”
Ismiled and nodded. “Well, thank you. Have a good day.”
“Youtoo, baby girl. I’ll miss your face around here.”
Ididn’t say it as I left and headed up the stairs to theapartmentI felt wrong calling mine, but I would miss him, too.
***
It wasjust months ago that I had boxed up my things, with the plan to move in withBrendan, and thank God I hadn’t. But now, everything was packed again, andwhile I knew it was for the better, the thought of leaving caused my heart topulse with trepidation and sadness.
Ihad no attachment to this city. I had no attachment to this building or eventhis apartment. But there were now a few people and places here that I found ithard to imagine being without and I didn’t know how to wrap my head aroundthat.
Isat at my kitchen table, cluttered in things still needing to be packed, andopened my laptop to get in a few minutes of writing, when I heard the phone ring.
Glancingat it, I saw it was the NICU.
“Hello?”
“Ms.Wright?”
Inodded, as if they could see me, then said, “Yes. Is everything okay?”
“Well,yes, everything is fine right now. I just wanted to call and ask if anybody hadtold you about Alex’s episode this morning.”
“Episode?”My gut lurched toward my throat as I stood from the table and stuffed my feetinto my shoes. “What do you mean, episode?”
“Hebradiedthis morning,” she said factually.
Iknew what that meant—Bradycardia is when the heart rate drops to less thansixty beats per minute—and I paused in what I was doing to rest a hand over myown heart, just to make sure it hadn’t stopped altogether.
“Ishe … is he okay?”
“Heshould be just fine,” she told me. “But we’re going to need to keep him foranother week or so, just to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
